


The Kind of Loss You Can't Explain

by RoaringNectar



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gravity Falls Oregon, Mr. Mystery, Mystery Shack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:54:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29390832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoaringNectar/pseuds/RoaringNectar
Summary: Stan Pines on the loss of his brother thirty odd years ago.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	The Kind of Loss You Can't Explain

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So... It's kind of been almost three years since I've been here, but I just watched Gravity Falls for the first time and needed to write something to cope with the sadness that comes with finishing a show. It's pretty short, but I really enjoyed writing it. I hope you do too! Let me know what I should write next!

Stan frantically ripped at his thinning grey hair, the deep bags under his sunken eyes filling with tears until they overflowed onto the metal floor. His fist slammed into the flooring with an echo that reverberated throughout his brother’s abandoned workshop and sent a shudder through his body.

Stan pushed himself to his feet and stumbled to the portal that stood as an ominous symbol of his failures. He picked up the six-fingered glove that had been at the base of the portal for thirty years, slipped it on his own hand, and dropped it to his side when he realized that it was no longer snug to his knuckles. He sunk to the ground, defeated.

He wept through the night as the memory of his brother’s young face twisted into an image he could no longer recognize and the pain of his loss became numb. Everything was grey. 

When Stan awoke, he forced his body to stand and trudge to the staircase that would lead him up to the day. As he turned to leave, he wiped the despair from his eyes and plastered a smile to the face that had cried out in agony the night before. Stan snatched his fez from the hanger in his shop and cracked his knuckles before sweeping the wooden door open to the small crowd of people milling around his totem pole.

Mr. Mystery waved at his customers. “Welcome to the Mystery Shack folks! Step right up to face your fears and be amazed!”


End file.
